Calico Ball

by Kelly, Carla

  “You fill a unique role, in Almy and in Evanston. You impact the health and wellbeing of many who won’t allow a male dentist near. Who else would see to scared children? Their mothers, sensitive ladies, one and all, trust you.”

  Yes, she knew this.

  He saw through every protective layer to her soul. He saw her for precisely who she was.

  And pronounced her work worthy.

  He deemed her worthy.

  The magnitude of his gift settled upon her. How could she not love him?

  Like wildflowers in warm summer sunshine, love for him multiplied, covering the hillsides with glorious color.

  Where had this man been through the seasons of her life? Where, when she’d battled loneliness so acute she thought she’d die from it? What providential miracle had brought him into her life?

  “If more men were like you, Henry Merritt, the world would be a better place.”

  He looked deeply into her eyes as he tugged on the reins. “Whoa.”

  Seconds passed as the team halted. He set the brake.

  Her grin blossomed as he wrapped the reins about the brake handle.

  She squeezed his hand between hers, loving this simple pleasure.

  His grin replied. He nipped one finger of his driving glove, then two. He tugged the glove free and dropped it onto his lap.

  He twisted on the seat, his long thigh pressed against hers. He brushed the backs of his knuckles softly against her cheek.

  The friction of his barely there touch sent shivers racing over her skin.

  He intended to kiss her!

  Seconds passed. His pupils dilated. He took in her cheeks, her jaw, and settled on her mouth.

  Sudden awareness of their mingling breaths, fast and shallow, rushed through her.

  His knuckles gave way to the pads of his fingers. He traced the line of her jaw.

  His reverent touch made her want to drift her eyes closed. She wanted to touch him, to feel the heat of his hand against hers, slide her thumb over his freshly shaved jaw.

  Before she realized it, she’d touched his chin. With her riding glove firmly in place.

  She groaned in frustration.

  He chuckled. Beautiful teeth. White, straight, attractive.

  With him, she’d shared her deepest heartaches. Rather than diminish her pain, he’d understood. She wanted his kiss.

  How her heart craved him!

  Slowly, slowly enough she could turn away—never!—he dipped his head.

  Her heart pounded, anticipating the perfect moment when his lips touched hers.

  His eyes drifted shut in that final moment. Electricity tingled along her nerves as his hand slipped behind her neck to cradle her head.

  Heat speared through her middle at the first settling of his mouth upon hers.

  Perfect.

  His reverent kiss spoke volumes.

  Far too soon, he pulled away.

  She mewled in disappointment.

  He chuckled, tipped his head a little more, and kissed her again. The heady rush of pleasure swept through her.

  Now she understood all the fuss about kissing.

  Especially when a kiss crowned the culminating moment of falling in love.

  Everything had changed between them. Everything.

  The kiss had sparked miraculous hope and thrilling possibilities, the beginning and the end. The beginning of the crowning relationship of her life. The end of doubts, wondering, and a hundred what-ifs.

  She would’ve asked for another kiss, or simply taken it . . .

  But he pressed his forehead to hers—or tried to. His hat brim collided with hers. Ribbons tugged beneath her chin as her hat slid askew.

  She chuckled, and he laughed aloud. The masculine rumble deep in his chest was one of her favorite things about him.

  With trembling fingers, she righted her bonnet and retied the ribbons.

  “I forgot myself.” Had she heard such transcendent joy in him? Ever?

  How wonderful! She’d been the cause of his forgetfulness. “Forget yourself again, please.”

  Love had won, in the end, for Sophia and Chadwick, and sanctified the arranged union between Joe and Naomi.

  Henry Merritt loved her in return!

  She’d forever recall this first Monday of June, when their love story started a new chapter.

  He tugged the brim of his hat into place and eased his hand from hers. “I would, but a rider’s approaching.” He released the brake and flicked the reins against the team’s rumps. The horses pulled the wagon into motion.

  She blinked, the world expanding from the pinpoint that encompassed only two, and noted the flowing Bear River and bridge not a hundred yards ahead.

  As he’d said, a rider approached on a roan, visible through the riverbank foliage. “’Lo there!”

  She knew him now. The Reverend Drescher, a German-accented preacher at one of the Evanston churches.

  Henry waved in greeting.

  “Dr. Pattison, Dr. Merritt—thank God I came across you this close to town.”

  “What’s the problem?” Henry asked.

  “My wife. Her toothache’s bad enough she says she’d rather be in the travail of childbirth than tolerate the misery another moment.”

  Isabella found Naomi in the medical clinic, cleaning after a procedure that had involved a good deal of blood. At the moment, it appeared she’d caught Naomi and Joe between patients.

  “I simply must confide what happened today.” Her heart overflowed with so myriad emotions. Relief. Happiness. Pleasure.

  Naomi passed off the housekeeping duties to her husband and led Isabella by the hand into the back room, their private space where they kept medical journals and shared meals.

  Months and months ago, Naomi had told her the sweetest story of Joe’s first kiss in this room, followed by his proposal of marriage. The couple had known one another through a pair of telegrams and one life-changing surgery. Joe had known all he needed to. Naomi was perfect for him, and he for her.

  Now Isabella’s first kiss had brought her to a similar place. Who would’ve thought, last Christmas, that Dr. Henry Merritt would be the ideal man for her?

  She sank into the chair Naomi offered at the table. Pleasant springtime air washed in through the open window. One quick peek outside confirmed no one would overhear from the alleyway.

  “The most wonderful thing has happened. We returned from Almy to discover Mrs. Abigail Drescher waiting for us, presenting with what appeared to be an impacted wisdom tooth. Do you know her?”

  “Indeed, I do. She was a witness when her husband officiated our marriage.”

  “Henry examined her, then invited me to also. We knew something wasn’t right. We talked it through, he on one side of Mrs. Drescher and me on the other.”

  She delved into more medical details than she’d share with Sophia, enjoying the light in Naomi’s eyes as her friend picked up on precisely what Isabella had. Through it all, Naomi’s joy blossomed. Who in Evanston would understand as well? Doc Joe and Doc Naomi practiced medicine separately, together, and shared a marriage based on respect, trust, and love.

  “Henry did the most astounding thing.” Her heart tripped faster and expanded at least one more size. “He deferred to me. Without hesitation.”

  “Of course he did. Who found the missing piece of the puzzle?”

  “We did. Together.” Isabella laughed, the joy of coming together with Henry in a purely intellectual and utterly magical way effervescing within her. “He’s bright, well-read, competent, and we’ve discovered our preferences and opinions coincide for the most part. Where we disagree, we’ve found common ground through discussion. He respects my opinion, and I respect his.”

  “I wondered how sharing that big dental office above the pharmacy would work out. I’m happy for you that it has.”

  “Working with him has been splendid.” Listening to his innermost thoughts, holding them close to her heart . . . “It all feels right.”

&nb
sp; “I don’t know what burr Henry had under his saddle from the hour you arrived in Evanston, but we’ve noted the changes. I believe he loves you.” Naomi, with her patented blend of compassion and forthright comfort, clasped Isabella’s hand. “Have you told him how you feel?”

  Rather than answer the question, she opted to distract with a revelation. “He kissed me today.”

  Her friends knew, to Isabella, kisses conveyed promises. To kiss a man she didn’t regard would be unthinkable. “I kissed him back. With equal interest.”

  “But you suppose Henry is freer with his kisses than you?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Kisses are all well and good. Some men need words, or they miss the point.” A moment passed. “Tell him how you feel.”

  She opened her mouth, found herself at a loss for words, and closed it.

  “I know you, Isabella. You’re one of my dearest friends. You don’t give your heart easily, yet you’re overflowing with love for Henry.”

  Yes, she did love him. Why risk everything by saying something?

  “Your situation is highly unusual,” she told Naomi. “Joe wanted you to be all that you are.”

  “From my observations, I believe Henry wants you for who you are.”

  Doubt tickled the back of her neck.

  She’d believed in her parents’ love, trusted their love and support would remain forever constant and unchanging. Her North Star.

  But she’d lost her parents’ affection. A grain at a time, through an hourglass, the currency of love had betrayed her because she wasn’t what they wanted her to be.

  If her own parents’ love could grow dim and cold, how could she trust a man’s affection to remain true?

  Especially Henry, who’d wanted a traditional wife from the beginning.

  He might love her for the moment.

  How could she hand him the power to destroy her? Confessing her love for him, handing him that power on a silver platter, would give him the key.

  But if she didn’t, he couldn’t reject her.

  “He loves you,” Naomi insisted.

  She nodded, desperate to convey enthusiasm.

  Much had damaged Henry’s ability to love with abandon. He still carried scars from Lenora—a lady dentist.

  What if he couldn’t set aside those wounds, and trust again? Trust her, a lady dentist who wanted him to love her, forever and ever.

  “Will you tell him how you feel?” Naomi believed one little step would close the gap. Maybe matters had been so simple for Joe and Naomi.

  But for Henry and Isabella? Love hadn’t been kind. Love hadn’t been easy.

  “I’ll try.”

  Henry wandered the city streets.

  No amount of greeting friends and acquaintances lightened his mood.

  He waved to Chadwick and Sophia peddling on the tandem bicycle Chad had built for his bride. Sophia rang her bicycle bell in rapid succession. Chadwick returned Henry’s wave and called, “Good evening to you!”

  The two of them were blissfully happy, their pleasure in bicycling evident for all to see.

  Their happiness served to amplify his own misery.

  He’d walked four or five miles, but agitation clung to him and vibrated in his bones.

  The sun would set within the quarter hour, and the early June temperatures dropped quickly, but he wasn’t ready to return to the Linden home. Frederick and Gertrude would be settling their child for the night. The sights and sounds of their blessed domesticity were usually a sweet reminder of everything he wanted and all he’d determined worth waiting for.

  But after today’s endearments, he’d had second thoughts.

  Powerful, threatening reconsiderations.

  He’d wanted, desperately, to cast aside his firm convictions to find a suitable wife—one who would make a comfortable home, one whose entire focus would be their family’s happiness—even though he couldn’t support that family. Yet. His income was still unstable and insufficient.

  In the moment before he’d lost all sense and kissed Isabella, he’d stood at the proverbial fork in the road. He’d been tempted to abandon his carefully determined path. Where would that leave them?

  Without meaning to, he found himself on Joe’s street. Joe was on the porch.

  “It’s odd to see you alone on that swing,” Henry said. “Is Naomi out?”

  “We returned home to find a note from Mrs. Linden—you do know she’s near confinement?”

  A quick nod.

  “Naomi won’t be back for a while yet.” Joe eyed Henry too closely. “Want to sit?”

  “No, thanks.” Discomposure drove Henry to pace. “I’ve ruined everything with Isabella.”

  “What happened?”

  Regrets churned. Every time he closed his eyes, the delicate fragrance of violets and the softness of her lips taunted him. “I kissed her.”

  Joe waited. No sign of disappointment, no chuckle, no I told you so. How could Joe not understand the seriousness of this diversion?

  “Now everything is at risk.” Henry paced the walk from stoop to gate, turning back again. “Our business relationship, our friendship—”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “Joe! My financial situation is finally improving. The fellows don’t trouble her, not anymore. I enjoyed her company in the office, the drives to Almy. Everything was perfect.”

  Despite the intervening hours since the incident, he couldn’t string together a coherent explanation. “I want to put it all back. I want everything the way it was.”

  Joe seemed content to listen without further comment.

  “I need your insight, man. What possessed me to kiss her?”

  “Do you want my thoughts?”

  Maybe he didn’t. Joe and Chadwick were firmly of the opinion that professional women made wonderful wives.

  “I could pontificate at length, but I don’t think you want to hear what I have to say.”

  How would Joe’s crowing congratulations help? “You’re right. I’m sorry, Joe. I must go.”

  Eight miserable days after the kiss that spoiled everything, Henry realized the old adage was true. Things can always get worse.

  Isabella, in her naturally happy manner, drilled and filled a cavity. Her patient was one of the UP engineers. This particular man was handsome and unfailingly polite.

  She laughed with him, paused in her work to ensure he remained comfortable, and blast it all—remained quite immune to Henry’s presence.

  Now that she’d finished with the man’s nearly perfect teeth, the fellow paid what he owed and lingered with her near the exit.

  Henry tried, with varying degrees of success, to ignore the engineer. Without a patient of his own at the moment, he forced himself to read the periodical he held.

  Weeks ago, he’d promised he wouldn’t leave her alone with a male patient. If not for that vow, he’d have been out the door and down the stairs.

  “Dr. Pattison,” the patient—Mr. James?—pressed her hand between both of his. “I’m impressed with your work. My least painful experience in the dental chair in . . . well, forever.”

  Must she laugh with him, listen intently to every word, and enjoy his company with ease?

  Despite the fact that this man’s attentions were a helpful development and unmistakably good news, Henry shoved down an unwelcome surge of jealousy.

  Isabella was not his.

  He didn’t want her to be his.

  Not now, not yesterday, not tomorrow.

  Some things were simply not meant to be.

  Mr. James grinned. He dressed well enough, and his polished manners probably appealed to ladies of all ages.

  “Are you anticipating the statehood celebration events?” James still held Isabella’s hand.

  “I am, very much.”

  “Would you be so good as to save me a dance at the calico ball?”

  “I’d be delighted.”

  Envy fermented in Henry’s gut. Had Isabella looked
at him that way?

  What did James have that Henry didn’t? Besides confidence as a dance partner and adequate income to take a wife?

  “I’ll count on it.” He lifted her hand, kissed her knuckles, and lingered.

  Right there, the man lost a solid five points in decorum. Decent men, good men, did not linger.

  Henry kicked himself, again. He’d lingered. And he’d relived that lingering kiss one thousand times, at least.

  That ill-fated kiss haunted him.

  James still pressed his mustached lips to Isabella’s hand, so Henry shifted forcefully, ensuring the chair squeaked. He thumped his boot to the polished floor.

  Abruptly, James straightened.

  Isabella didn’t spare Henry a glance, so he went to the windows to pull down the new shades on each of four windows. The heat had become unbearable.

  James cleared his throat. “The calico ball is a full month away, is it not? July 11? Today is the tenth of June. Such an infernal wait, don’t you think?”

  The flirtatious dolt ought to be on his way.

  “The month,” Isabella said, teasing in her voice, “will pass quickly enough.”

  “It will if I have the pleasure of seeing you again.”

  Two more points lost—no, make that three—for his presumption. She’d invite him to call if she wished. No gentleman invited himself, and no man called on a lady without an invitation. It simply wasn’t done.

  Though she believed she’d never wed, she had every right to welcome a suitor.

  Hopefully James wasn’t terrified of falling for a professional woman.

  Isabella tossed a brief glare at Henry. He turned the page, unwilling to let her see he listened to every word.

  The moments stretched, and Isabella did not extend the offer James wanted.

  Henry fought to keep his expression neutral. Crowing in victory would prove most unhelpful.

  The other man claimed his hat from the hall tree. He spun it in his hands. “Might I have the pleasure of accompanying you to the parade? We might have a picnic lunch and enjoy the music.”

  The paper had run a detailed list of the week-long celebration events to come. The marching bands planned a concert after the parade, a mixture of patriotic tunes and modern favorites.

  “You’re most kind to ask.” Isabella’s voice carried pleasure.